Page 90 of Best Wrong Thing

“What did you expect?”

“You should try it. It feels so good.” He pushes his damp hair away from his face.

“I’ll pass.” I drink my water a little more slowly. The cold liquid does wonders for my parched throat and rejuvenates me.

“More dancing?” Archer asks.

I nod and follow him into the throng of bodies. He loops his arms over my shoulders and dances closer and more sensually than before. I keep my hands on his hips, with my fingers underneath his T-shirt. I’ve missed the feel of him. With him, I can let go and embrace the pulse of the music. I follow Archer’s lead on how to dance, copying his movements until I feel confident enough to dance to the beat. If Molly saw me now, I doubt she’d be able to claim I was uptight. And I didn’t even need to get laid to get to this point. All I need is Archer.

Fuck.

I stutter and stop, staring, unblinking, without focusing on anything.

“You okay?” Archer asks.

I shake myself and continue dancing. “Yes.”

He frowns. “Sure?”

I need a moment to think, away from Archer’s intoxicating presence. “Yes, I need a drink. Do you want one?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

I pull away from him and weave through dancers to the bar. I order some water and then turn, easily locating Archer despite the crowd surrounding him. He’s standing with a good-looking guy with shoulder-length, wavy hair. More classically handsome than I could ever claim to be. They’re talking but not dancing. Even so, my pulse spikes. Archer makes eye contact with me and grins. Then the guy writes something on Archer’s arm.

Forgetting my water, I stride toward them. What am I going to do? Stake my claim on Archer? Mark my territory? Jealousy is a bad look, but I can’t help it.

As I get closer, I see the guy has written his phone number on Archer’s arm. Why?

Archer grabs my hand, pulls me to him, and loops his arm around my waist. “Jacob, this is Regan. Regan, this is Jacob. My boyfriend.” He stares into my eyes.

My heart skips. Archer is choosing me. No. He’s not just choosing me. He’s declaring he’s with me.

I give Regan a cursory wave.

He replies with a warm smile, “Nice to meet you.” He nudges Archer. “I guess you won’t be calling me, then?”

“Nope. I’m very happy.” Archer kisses me.

I tighten my grip on him.

“So I see.” Regan winks at me.

“How’s the stag do going?” Archer asks him without taking his eyes off me.

Have they met before?

“Good. We’re flying home tomorrow.”

“One last big fling?”

Regan laughs. “You could say that. I was hoping to get some tonight.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Take care and have fun.” Regan nods to me and moves away, quickly getting swallowed by the crowd.

“Does that happen often?” I ask.